The story of the golem is a legend that originated in Prague in the 16th century. The golem was believed to be a creature made of clay that was brought to life by Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel . According to the legend, the golem was created to protect the Jewish community from anti-Semitic attacks . The golem was said to be a powerful and obedient servant, but also possessed a destructive potential . The story of the golem has been passed down through generations and has become a symbol of protection and resilience for Jewish communities . It's important to note that the golem is a fictional character and does not exist in reality.
(someone): The Maharal was a real person, and despite the story of the Golem, and numerous other mystical abilities attributed to him, like the Maharal being able to talk to animals, There's no evidence that he ever engaged in mysticism of any sort. He was actually a pretty serious and scholarly man. According to this account and legends associated with it, the synagogue of Prague still houses the body of the Golem in its attic. And, built in the 1200s, it's the oldest synagogue in Europe in nearly continuous use. The story is nice because of its, well, its optimism. It stands in stark contrast to historical accounts of Blood Bible. And there are happy endings to all incidents that appear in the story, something that history does not have. I wish that the story was correct and the blood libel did end in the Maharal's lifetime. But nearly 400 years after the story took place, it's believed that this story was written in Prague as a response to decades of really bad incidents. What I'm saying is, there won't ever be a Golem to miraculously save the vulnerable at the last moment. We need to stand up for each other, and stand together against hate and bigotry. And together, we can make a difference. Next week, it's a pretty hard lane change, and we're talking about Tom Thumb. The man in the time of King Arthur, who was the size of a thumb, who somehow keeps ending up embedded in way too much poop. I mean, any poop is bad, but this is truly too much.
(someone): The being gasped and became still. The student stepped forward. When he had completed his circuit, the golem's hair and nails fell away, turning to dust just before they hit the ground. The being once again glowed red. Finally, it was the son-in-law's turn to walk. As he completed his seventh circuit, what was once the golem cooled. It was now little more than damp clay and loam, still with the handprints of the men who had created him on the riverbank years earlier. The Maharal found that the attic contained prayer shawls, no longer fit for ritual use. so the trio grabbed a couple and wrapped the body of the golem, hiding him under damaged holy books in the corner of the large attic. The men descended the stairs, and the next day, a rumor was heard among the Jewish population of Prague. The golem had become angry and violent, and he had run away in the night. The maharal fed the rumors, and the people adjusted to life without Yosef the golem. Another completely unrelated decree came from the maharal, the leader of the synagogue. He had been up in the attic recently, and no one was to go up there under any circumstances. It was littered with old books and dry prayer shawls, and since the only light source in the 1500s was flame, It presented an enormous fire hazard.
(someone): There's some speculation that it began in the 12th century, during the Crusades, when, rather than being taken by an advancing army, Some Jewish people chose to kill their children and then themselves. Still, we see this lie persist through the Middle Ages, early modern period, 20th century, and there's even a few in the 21st century. Nevermind that Jewish law states that blood is impure and explicitly forbids the consumption of blood. And according to one book I read on this, it defiles even by proximity, meaning even if you're close to it. So I just want to stress what was true and what's not. Anyway, today's story began in 1513 in Prague, currently the capital of the Czech Republic. The man with the sack had either dug up a recently buried Christian child or he had killed one on his own. The story isn't clear, but what was clear was what he was gonna do with the body. He was going to take the body into the Jewish quarter of Prague and dump it in the cellar or house of a Jewish family. He planned to run to the police so the unsuspecting family would be arrested or perhaps he'd rouse a mob to storm the Jewish part of the city and then even more people would die. Fortunately, He didn't have the chance to do either of those things. The police caught him trying to instigate a blood libel. And he never saw the outside of a jail cell again. The Jewish family that was yelling in the street was just as surprised as the police in all this. They had no idea what the man was trying to do. They hadn't even seen him.
(someone): They had been preparing for this all week, purifying themselves. Like the story of Frankenstein's creation, we aren't given detailed steps for creating a golem, just vaguely told that the men prepared for it. The trio had met on the riverbank, full of anticipation. Four elements were needed in order to bring the being to life. earth, wind, fire, water, but no mention of heart. Which is good, that never made sense to me. Anyway, the Maharal stepped forward. He was born with the power of air, his son-in-law with the power of fire, and the other student with the power of water. The earth was, well, the clay. Saibhar, if anyone can give me any insight as to what being born with the power of air, fire, and water means, please do, I have no idea. Well, like I said, The Maharal had been preparing all week, studying and praying and now it was go time. He told his son-in-law to walk counterclockwise around the man-shaped mud seven times while reciting a specific combination of letters. The son-in-law trembled with excitement as he completed his seventh rotation and the body of mud began glowing red like an ember. The student was next and he walked around the creature seven times saying the words the Maharaja told him, the heat from the figure warming his side. When he finished, the glowing stopped and the body hardened. It grew hair and nails. The Maharaja clasped both of his pupils on the shoulder and began his own walk.
(someone): It was the middle of the night, but he kept hearing those words in his head over and over. It had been eight years since the debates, and though things had been relatively peaceful for a few years, it had begun to grow tense once again. Thaddeus, the anti-Semitic priest, had further risen among the priestly ranks. He also learned sorcery, because sure. Since blood libels had almost ceased to be a problem during that time, the king stopped worrying about them so much. There was now a blind spot and the Maharal had seen them, the looks. Still, he hadn't imagined things were so far gone until his dream. A golem? A being made from clay? The Maharal sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. If he was receiving a command in a dream, he should listen. That morning, he rose early, and before Donnie was at the home of his son-in-law, he called on his best student, too. Once inside, he told the pair of the dream. The three men shivered by the river, as their hands, numb from the crisp air, finished forming the creature. They stepped back, and in moonlight, looked with satisfaction at the man they had formed from the clay and loam. It was after one o'clock in the morning by now, and yet none of them were tired. They had been preparing for this all week, purifying themselves. Like the story of Frankenstein's creation, we aren't given detailed steps for creating a golem, just vaguely told that the men prepared for it.
(someone): Inside one corpse was another. Just a few days ago, a child had died in the house next door to him. And the night after that, he was flinging dirt off the fresh gravesite over his shoulder and rushing back home, the child's corpse in his arms. He was startled from thought as the carriage hit something, or rather, someone. A man stood before him and, with one hand, he had stopped the carriage. The butcher yelled at the man dressed in the clothes of a Gentile to get out of the way, but the stranger wasn't paying attention. Holding the carriage in place with one hand, the stranger lifted the tarp with the other. He looked at the burden, let the tarp go, and removed the rope that functioned as his belt. The butcher had two sensations at once. First, the man was impossibly cold and strong. His grip was like pure iron. Second, the man was taking the butcher and hog-tying him to his own carriage. The butcher tried to put up a fight, but that lasted all of 5 seconds, before he realized that the strange man wouldn't hesitate to break his bones if he didn't submit. The driver's seat now clear, the stranger took a seat and drove the carriage away. The carriage drew quite the following throughout town, as the man screamed that he was being kidnapped. Someone needed to call the police. As it turned out, they didn't need to. The stranger was taking him to City Hall. Outside, the police saw the bruised and bleeding butcher tied to his carriage and ran to him.
(someone): It was the middle of the night, but he kept hearing those words in his head over and over. It had been eight years since the debates, and though things had been relatively peaceful for a few years, it had begun to grow tense once again. Thaddeus, the anti-Semitic priest, had further risen among the priestly ranks. He also learned sorcery, because sure. Since blood libels had almost ceased to be a problem during that time, the king stopped worrying about them so much. There was now a blind spot and the Maharal had seen them, the looks. Still, he hadn't imagined things were so far gone until his dream. A golem? A being made from clay? The Maharal sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. If he was receiving a command in a dream, he should listen. That morning, he rose early, and before Donnie was at the home of his son-in-law, he called on his best student, too. Once inside, he told the pair of the dream. The three men shivered by the river, as their hands, numb from the crisp air, finished forming the creature. They stepped back, and in moonlight, looked with satisfaction at the man they had formed from the clay and loam. It was after one o'clock in the morning by now, and yet none of them were tired. They had been preparing for this all week, purifying themselves. Like the story of Frankenstein's creation, we aren't given detailed steps for creating a golem, just vaguely told that the men prepared for it.
(someone): Hey, just a quick note, this episode contains some violence, as well as depictions of antisemitism. There's nothing gratuitous, but if it's concerning, check out the post on mythpodcast.com for more info. This week on Myths and Legends, it's the beginning of the story of the Golem of Prague, where we'll learn that the easiest way to make a new friend is to actually make a new friend. And if you don't understand that dad joke, you will at the end of the episode, and I'm very sorry. On the Creature of the Week, you'll see a super common North American forest creature with bright eyes, a bushy tail, and a taste for human blood. This is Myths and Legends, Episode 107A, Guardian. This is a podcast where I tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular stories you think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. Today's episode is brought to you by Squarespace. Have a dream? Maybe you want to showcase your work, a new blog or sell products. Maybe you've been thinking about starting a podcast of your own. Well, make your dream a reality with Squarespace. Your beautiful new site is just a few clicks away, and their 24-7 customer support is there to help in case you need it. I love that there's never anything to install, patch, or upgrade. It's just one less thing standing in your way. Head to squarespace.com slash myths for a free trial.
(someone): The Maharal was a real person, and despite the story of the Golem, and numerous other mystical abilities attributed to him, like the Maharal being able to talk to animals, There's no evidence that he ever engaged in mysticism of any sort. He was actually a pretty serious and scholarly man. According to this account and legends associated with it, the synagogue of Prague still houses the body of the Golem in its attic. And, built in the 1200s, it's the oldest synagogue in Europe in nearly continuous use. The story is nice because of its, well, its optimism. It stands in stark contrast to historical accounts of Blood Bible. And there are happy endings to all incidents that appear in the story, something that history does not have. I wish that the story was correct and the blood libel did end in the Maharal's lifetime. But nearly 400 years after the story took place, it's believed that this story was written in Prague as a response to decades of really bad incidents. What I'm saying is, there won't ever be a Golem to miraculously save the vulnerable at the last moment. We need to stand up for each other, and stand together against hate and bigotry. And together, we can make a difference. Next week, it's a pretty hard lane change, and we're talking about Tom Thumb. The man in the time of King Arthur, who was the size of a thumb, who somehow keeps ending up embedded in way too much poop. I mean, any poop is bad, but this is truly too much.
(someone): It was littered with old books and dry prayer shawls, and since the only light source in the 1500s was flame, It presented an enormous fire hazard. They hadn't survived the dangers of the blood libel to have their synagogue carelessly burned down, and so, as people who had personally seen the mysterious clay man began to die, others began to question the possibility that such a being could have ever existed, and Josef the Golem passed into legend. They do say, however, that the man-shaped clay still slumbers in the attic of the synagogue of Prague, ready for a time when he'll be needed once again. Like I said last week, this all comes from Rabbi Yudel Rosenberg's story of the Golem. Earlier versions present the Golem as a servant of the Maharal, and they almost always end badly, either with the Golem taking things too literally and hurting people, getting angry, or working on the Sabbath. Rosenberg wasn't the first one to associate the Golem with the Maharal, but as far as I can tell, he was the first to make it a protector and guardian of the Jewish people. and since he himself had cast it as a manuscript he found that had been written by the Maharal's son-in-law, one of the Golem's co-creators, it quickly became a legend. The story of the Golem was super popular in the early part of the 20th century, and has endured to this day. The Maharal was a real person, and despite the story of the Golem, and numerous other mystical abilities attributed to him, like the Maharal being able to talk to animals, There's no evidence that he ever engaged in mysticism of any sort.
(someone): They had been preparing for this all week, purifying themselves. Like the story of Frankenstein's creation, we aren't given detailed steps for creating a golem, just vaguely told that the men prepared for it. The trio had met on the riverbank, full of anticipation. Four elements were needed in order to bring the being to life. earth, wind, fire, water, but no mention of heart. Which is good, that never made sense to me. Anyway, the Maharal stepped forward. He was born with the power of air, his son-in-law with the power of fire, and the other student with the power of water. The earth was, well, the clay. Saibhar, if anyone can give me any insight as to what being born with the power of air, fire, and water means, please do, I have no idea. Well, like I said, The Maharal had been preparing all week, studying and praying and now it was go time. He told his son-in-law to walk counterclockwise around the man-shaped mud seven times while reciting a specific combination of letters. The son-in-law trembled with excitement as he completed his seventh rotation and the body of mud began glowing red like an ember. The student was next and he walked around the creature seven times saying the words the Maharaja told him, the heat from the figure warming his side. When he finished, the glowing stopped and the body hardened. It grew hair and nails. The Maharaja clasped both of his pupils on the shoulder and began his own walk.
(someone): It's just one less thing standing in your way. Head to squarespace.com slash myths for a free trial. And when you're ready, use the offer code myths to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or a domain. Today, it's the legend of the Golem of Prague. Now, there are many golem stories out there, but this one is absolutely the most famous. Set in the 1500s in Prague, the legend has a confusing history. Some say it actually stems from events in the 16th century, while most say it was a literary invention of the 18th and 19th centuries. This podcast is first and foremost about storytelling, not necessarily history, but we should give credit where credit's due. The most fully fleshed out version of the Golem of Prague is Rabbi Udal Rosenberg's story. Growing up in a culture where he couldn't write fiction, he asserted that he found the story of the Golem. Multiple people translated and spread the story, creating a new legend set in 16th century Prague. Anyway, today's tale is based off of Rosenberg's original, the most complete I could find. I put a link to the only English translation in the show notes and on mythpodcast.com. The bag butted against his back, throwing off his steps. But still, he ran. He darted past the synagogue, past the five-sided palace. Despite the late chill that year, sweat had already soaked through his shirt, and if he didn't get inside, he would surely grow sick and die. And if he didn't get inside soon, they would get him.
(someone): He's one of the unthinking beast variety of dragons, like the Lampton Worm and the dragons that Yvain and Ragnar fought. He's not like the dragons that can hold an intelligent conversation before eating you, like Fafnir. This is actually one of the first fire-breathing dragons in folklore, and while that's extremely common today, it wasn't common in mythology and folklore. The dragons seemed to be mainly extremely poisonous. This dragon had wings and legs, And if this story sounds a lot like Smaug from The Hobbit, well, we know Tolkien was very familiar with the story of Beowulf. He actually has a translation of the story out, that was published posthumously. And while we can't say definitively that the story of a thief awakening a fire-breathing dragon sleeping on a treasure pile under a hill, inspired the story of a thief awakening a fire-breathing dragon sleeping on a treasure pile underneath a lonely mountain, It seems like a pretty good fit. Back to Beowulf, the king put his hand in the black beams of what was left of his mead hall, his home. They were still removing smoldering remains, and Beowulf ran his hands over the charred, ashen remnant. It was a dragon, in this land, in his land. Now, for years, the Geats had been at peace with their many, many enemies. Beowulf had been their king and leader. He had kept the wolves at bay.
(someone): Inside one corpse was another. Just a few days ago, a child had died in the house next door to him. And the night after that, he was flinging dirt off the fresh gravesite over his shoulder and rushing back home, the child's corpse in his arms. He was startled from thought as the carriage hit something, or rather, someone. A man stood before him and, with one hand, he had stopped the carriage. The butcher yelled at the man dressed in the clothes of a Gentile to get out of the way, but the stranger wasn't paying attention. Holding the carriage in place with one hand, the stranger lifted the tarp with the other. He looked at the burden, let the tarp go, and removed the rope that functioned as his belt. The butcher had two sensations at once. First, the man was impossibly cold and strong. His grip was like pure iron. Second, the man was taking the butcher and hog-tying him to his own carriage. The butcher tried to put up a fight, but that lasted all of 5 seconds, before he realized that the strange man wouldn't hesitate to break his bones if he didn't submit. The driver's seat now clear, the stranger took a seat and drove the carriage away. The carriage drew quite the following throughout town, as the man screamed that he was being kidnapped. Someone needed to call the police. As it turned out, they didn't need to. The stranger was taking him to City Hall. Outside, the police saw the bruised and bleeding butcher tied to his carriage and ran to him.
(someone): The Maharal had friends all over the city, even among people who worked for Thaddeus. So he knew the priest was just about to go out of town for a conference in Krakow. While Thaddeus was away at priest con, the Maharal and the Golem would make their move. As I've alluded, the golem had an amulet, or sometimes a deerskin, that could turn him invisible. All he needed to do was go to Thaddeus' cloister and just wait. When the servant inevitably left, he would simply need to catch the door with his foot and step inside. Once inside the cloister, just look around for the key to the cell. After all, the servant said to feed the girl somehow. Then unlock the door and help her into a sack. Of course, the Maharal gave the golem way more instructions than that. Remember, the creature was very literal, so he made sure to specify that the amulet was off his forehead when he spoke to the girl, and that he should not only tell the girl to get in the bag, but also take the bag with him when he left. The golem found the girl at midnight that night, eyes red and voice hoarse from crying. The next morning, the unsuspecting servant dropped the tray as he stared into the young girl's cell. He flung the door wide open and searched all around. She was gone. Ah, he was going to be in so much trouble. Or, or, maybe he wouldn't. The servant positioned the bones on top of the bed. He wasn't able to find girl bones.
(someone): It was the middle of the night, but he kept hearing those words in his head over and over. It had been eight years since the debates, and though things had been relatively peaceful for a few years, it had begun to grow tense once again. Thaddeus, the anti-Semitic priest, had further risen among the priestly ranks. He also learned sorcery, because sure. Since blood libels had almost ceased to be a problem during that time, the king stopped worrying about them so much. There was now a blind spot and the Maharal had seen them, the looks. Still, he hadn't imagined things were so far gone until his dream. A golem? A being made from clay? The Maharal sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. If he was receiving a command in a dream, he should listen. That morning, he rose early, and before Donnie was at the home of his son-in-law, he called on his best student, too. Once inside, he told the pair of the dream. The three men shivered by the river, as their hands, numb from the crisp air, finished forming the creature. They stepped back, and in moonlight, looked with satisfaction at the man they had formed from the clay and loam. It was after one o'clock in the morning by now, and yet none of them were tired. They had been preparing for this all week, purifying themselves. Like the story of Frankenstein's creation, we aren't given detailed steps for creating a golem, just vaguely told that the men prepared for it.
(someone): The young man's past came back, looking for him in a real and threatening way. I always love it when, in a story, actions have consequences. The young man killed the giant dragon and they just moved to the celebration, leaving the dragon to rot in the sun and get everyone sick. And then the witch maiden that he robbed and left came back for him and had a devious and malicious plan to make him suffer for taking the ring from her. It was only because of his relationship to the old man that he was saved. And it wasn't some big wizard battle, but the old man coming when he knew the witch maidens wouldn't be there. For a story about a dragon with frog legs and a snack army, I appreciated that it made sense. I added that bit about the young man locking himself away and living under a heavy guard for the rest of his life because, well, it makes sense to me. The witch maiden was still out there. In kind of a weird twist for folklore, the villain got away. The ring, once again, passed into legend and At least according to the story, the Witch Maiden could still be out there, hiding among us, washing the age from her face every month and keeping the ring for when it's needed again. Real quickly, there's a lot of speculation out there that this story, the Ring of Solomon, helped to inspire the Lord of the Rings. While we know that the Saga of the Volsungs was a big inspiration, we're not so sure about this one. It shares a lot of elements with the Lord of the Rings, but there's also a lot of pretty standard Magic Ring stuff.
(someone): The Maharal was a real person, and despite the story of the Golem, and numerous other mystical abilities attributed to him, like the Maharal being able to talk to animals, There's no evidence that he ever engaged in mysticism of any sort. He was actually a pretty serious and scholarly man. According to this account and legends associated with it, the synagogue of Prague still houses the body of the Golem in its attic. And, built in the 1200s, it's the oldest synagogue in Europe in nearly continuous use. The story is nice because of its, well, its optimism. It stands in stark contrast to historical accounts of Blood Bible. And there are happy endings to all incidents that appear in the story, something that history does not have. I wish that the story was correct and the blood libel did end in the Maharal's lifetime. But nearly 400 years after the story took place, it's believed that this story was written in Prague as a response to decades of really bad incidents. What I'm saying is, there won't ever be a Golem to miraculously save the vulnerable at the last moment. We need to stand up for each other, and stand together against hate and bigotry. And together, we can make a difference. Next week, it's a pretty hard lane change, and we're talking about Tom Thumb. The man in the time of King Arthur, who was the size of a thumb, who somehow keeps ending up embedded in way too much poop. I mean, any poop is bad, but this is truly too much.
(someone): It grew hair and nails. The Maharaja clasped both of his pupils on the shoulder and began his own walk. When he completed his seventh circuit, all men said in unison, he breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living creature. The creature's eyes snapped open. Stand to your feet, the Maharal said through a smile. Instantly, the creature sprang to his feet. The Maharal inspected him as the others stood back in fear. The leader motioned to his son-in-law for the package and they helped the golem dress and put on shoes so he could pass through the city. The three men walked on either side and in front of the golem, to shield him from anyone who might be on the street early. The Mahara walked beside his creation and told the being that his name was Yosef, drawn from a creature mentioned in the Talmud, who, even though he was half-man and half-demon, saved the sages multiple times. This man was stronger though. He could walk through fire and not be burned. He would not drown. He wouldn't be hurt if he fell off a building and he couldn't be killed with a sword. When they returned to the Maharal's house, everyone was just starting to rise, so the Maharal drew everyone together, saying, first, good morning. Also, me and my buddies made a deathless clayman who will guard the Jews from all harm at the hands of enemies and oppressors. You know, normal Monday night.
(someone): The being gasped and became still. The student stepped forward. When he had completed his circuit, the golem's hair and nails fell away, turning to dust just before they hit the ground. The being once again glowed red. Finally, it was the son-in-law's turn to walk. As he completed his seventh circuit, what was once the golem cooled. It was now little more than damp clay and loam, still with the handprints of the men who had created him on the riverbank years earlier. The Maharal found that the attic contained prayer shawls, no longer fit for ritual use. so the trio grabbed a couple and wrapped the body of the golem, hiding him under damaged holy books in the corner of the large attic. The men descended the stairs, and the next day, a rumor was heard among the Jewish population of Prague. The golem had become angry and violent, and he had run away in the night. The maharal fed the rumors, and the people adjusted to life without Yosef the golem. Another completely unrelated decree came from the maharal, the leader of the synagogue. He had been up in the attic recently, and no one was to go up there under any circumstances. It was littered with old books and dry prayer shawls, and since the only light source in the 1500s was flame, It presented an enormous fire hazard.
(someone): The man in the time of King Arthur, who was the size of a thumb, who somehow keeps ending up embedded in way too much poop. I mean, any poop is bad, but this is truly too much. I want to say thanks to ShadowHunter77, FuzzyPinkSquirrels, Fubist, 2BL4eva, BethyPoo55, Kele, MissSmiley, LeilaRose26, Zalamar, RookieMind, AdmiralRoss2400, RiceyWa, Stewville23, Holly Montier, AlexB1373, CarolineL78, Ramian, and Vexation17 for their reviews on Apple Podcasts. Thank you all so much. It's great to hear from you, and I really appreciate it. If you'd like to leave a review, Apple Podcasts is still a great place, and you can find the show there at apple.mythpodcast.com. There's also a membership thing on the site. For less than the price of a Halloween poop emoji neck pillow, you can get extra episodes, source pack ebooks, and ad-free versions of the show. That's also sometimes a confusing hodgepodge of a bunch of different styles and references, but somehow still works. Check out support.mythpodcast.com for more info on the membership. The creature this week is the Funeral Mountain Pterashot, a fearsome critter from the United States. As you probably know by now and from last week, fearsome critters are the definitely real creatures that lumberjacks and other workers discussed in their North American camps in the mid to late 1800s.
(someone): Since eating children was old hat by that point, Cronus didn't notice the rock and Rhea hid the baby Zeus away, safe until he could overthrow his father and her brother. If you're sensing a self-fulfilling prophecy here, well, welcome to Greek Mythology. As a quick aside, this is where some of the legendary creatures we've talked about before were born. Like Garion, the herdsman with the three bodies stuck together that Hercules slew. Or Cerberus, Hades' three-headed dog. Hesiod says the dog actually had 50 heads, and though he's almost always depicted as a three-headed dog today, I've been told that that particular detail, the three heads, is actually the least consistent detail in the ancient texts. The Hydra was also born during this time, as were the Gorgons, Scylla, the Sphinx, the Chimera, and basically all the cool stuff. Over these three generations, from Gaia and Uranus down to the Olympians, the whole pantheon was born. It's not really as simple as saying the primordial beings begat the Titans, and the Titans begat the Olympians. There was a lot more going on here. To say that the family tree of Greek mythology is extremely complicated is an egregious oversimplification. I've posted multiple family trees on the website. Just don't pay attention to how many times Zeus pops up as the partner of his daughters, granddaughters, and great-granddaughters. Anyway, Zeus' mother found a way to hide him, and he grew up on an island beyond the rule of Cronus.
(someone): They had no idea what the man was trying to do. They hadn't even seen him. They were just calling for a doctor. Rabbi Bezalel's wife was giving birth. But they still praised God that the insurer hadn't been allowed to get away with it. After the baby was born, his father took what happened that night of his birth as a sign. The boy, who they named Judah Lowe, would save them all from the blood libel. 59 years later, that child, Rabbi Judah Lowe, was now known as the Maharal, the chief rabbi and head of the rabbinical court in Prague. Not only was he wise in the Jewish teachings and law, but everything. He knew like two dozen languages and was admired in his own community and among the Gentiles as well. The Maharal had battled against the blood libel since, well, since the minute he was born. And it didn't let up until he earned the respect of the king, King Rudolf. The Maharal had seen too many people die throughout his life, and he remained firmly committed to ending the blood libel. Finally... King Rudolf decreed that he would not allow anyone in any court of his land to level an accusation of ritual murder against the Jews without going directly through him first, and he would rule on if it could go to court. This was good news, but it wasn't enough. Not only did this not solve the problem of extra-legal violence against the Jews, but their hopes were pinned on one man. Men could change their minds. Men could die.